Lu, you're 2!

This girl

is a complete gift.

warming up those winter days

So it seems that we might be emerging from the gray chill of winter into the windy sort-of-warmth of spring.  Hallelujah! this wimpy Santa Barbara girl cries.  But we did have a fun way of bringing some light into the browns and grays of late January and early February.  I left the girls this little invitation:

They took it VERY seriously.  Fancy dress-up clothes were donned,

(and they insisted Mommy wear some, too - you should have seen me trying to wriggle into this tutu)

the tea set was put out and hot chocolate was procured,

and treats were enjoyed by all.

SOME of us got messier than others - 

but we all had plenty of fun.  And the best part?  That evening, after Daddy got home from work, 3 little messengers delivered this:

I love having little girls. (I also love their Daddy.)

making a little noise

So I've been quiet in this corner of the universe for awhile.  And there are many reasons for this.  My responsibilities have expanded, the number of minutes in each hour has not.  By the time we get the girls tucked in bed and the kitchen cleaned and lunches made and dogs attended to, bathrooms cleaned and grocery lists decoded and the news from downstairs blaring in my ears - well, I'm just really tired and not very likely to sit down at this silly computer and do much reflecting.  And a little bit of quiet seems attractive - no, necessary - in this new life we live.

Mostly, though, I'm finding it complicated to write about our life because it now involves 2 people who are grown adults, who I love very much, who deserve to have their dignity maintained and their privacy respected and a say about what gets written and posted about them on this World Wide Web.  (I suppose my children might argue the same thing about themselves some day!)  It feels inauthentic, though, to write about our life as if they aren't a part of it, and so sometimes it seems easier to just not write.

I miss it, though, this blogging thing.  I miss recording our sweet little life for friends and family and for my children to look back on.  I miss the way that writing about a difficult day gives me some perspective and makes it a bit easier to see God's hand in it all.  So I'm going to try to carve out some time here and there to visit this space.  No promises of a schedule or a certain number of posts per month.  Just the time, when I have it, to say thank you for this.

And this, too.

do not worry about tomorrow

Yesterday I found myself thinking ahead.  I've been doing that a lot lately.

To be honest, I have spent a great deal of my life doing it.  I know I'm not alone in this - it seems to be part of the human condition to look forward, to long for something else, or something more, to worry about what is to come, or to simply wonder (in anxiety or joyful anticipation) about the future.

And when I do that here, these days, I can start to feel overwhelmed, buried.  These things we're living with - the quirks of being a multi-generational family and Alzheimer's and I know what that looks like today but what in the world will it look like in 2 weeks or 2 months or maybe even 2 years - they can pummel me like an ocean wave (Goleta tar and seaweed and all) until I'm left gasping, spitting out salty water and rubbing sandy eyes, straining desperately to discover which way is up.

Yesterday, God spoke a quiet word to me.  "Today."  Be here today.  Just be here now.  Don't worry about tomorrow, and by the way, My grace is sufficient for you.

What a tragedy it would be to let the fog of my worries about tomorrow obscure the beauty of today.

And so I breathed in and out and looked around me.  Here is what I found:

Muddy fingers and dirt-smeared cheeks.
A beloved blonde head glinting in the sunlight.
Twin sisters running through golden leaves, hair streaming behind them and strong legs racing.
A profile I love, freckled nose and little round chin.
An old man's smile, and his wife's laugh.
Food in the oven, and then on the table.
Eyes that behold me with love and honor.
A strong hand giving my own one last squeeze before I close my eyes and sleep.  In peace.

Here is where my life is, right here, right now.  God, in Your mercy, don't let me miss it.

counting my blessings

6 precious feet
30 beloved toes
3 sweet sisters giving their toys a bath in the sink
1 incredibly blessed life

for Katie Jo

This post is dedicated to Katie, Sarah, Christine, Carrie (Oh, how we miss you!), Kristin, KK, and Josh.

When I was in high school my friends used to make fun of me because I'm not much of an animal person.  What kind of a person doesn't like puppies? they'd tease.  And I would insist that I didn't NOT like them, I just liked people better.  And then they'd laugh because, well, the double negative wasn't all that convincing.  One of my dear, fabulous, funny friends - Katie - had a crazy puppy named Pepper who did not help my case.  I probably could have done without all of the barking, jumping, licking, furry, in your face madness that Pepper added to the many days and nights we spent at Katie's house.  Okay, I know I could have done without it.

I recently turned 30 (and I thought about blogging about it and being all reflective and stuff, but let's be honest here, I am barely putting one foot in front of the other these days) and Katie wrote a sweet note that included the line: "Maybe 30 is the year where you get a dog?"

Well, guess what, Katie?  I have not only 1 dog now, but 2!!!  And guess who gets to feed them?!?!

Life is funny sometimes.

So, this is Blue Girl:

And this is Bella:

 Bella reminds me of Pepper in some ways.  I especially love to watch her when she's tearing after the family of wild turkeys that lives in the woods around our house.  Running turkeys are hilarious.  Some people might think that's mean, but you know me.  I'm not a huge animal person - I just don't NOT like them.

(But I sure do love these people.)

 (Isn't Lu's hair awesome here?)

 (Love love love this girl.  And her mouthful of food.)

for my 5 year olds

Dear Aida and Sophie,

Yesterday you turned 5.  Sometimes it leaves me speechless when I think about the day you entered this world and made me a Mama, and the ways in which you have grown since then, the ways in which I have grown.

We celebrated you right this weekend, with all things pink (Sophie's favorite color) and orange (Aida's favorite).  Friends and a pool and 2 cakes with rainbow candles and My Little Ponies and new bikes and only 1 hysterical-excitement-almost-became-a-huge-meltdown.  It comes with the 5-year-old territory.

Girls, this is a huge time of change for you.  Huge.  You have held up tremendously as we have thrown you into a new environment which is filled with fun and blessings - beautiful scenery in which to ride you bikes each day, a creek to throw things in and fresh air and safety and adventure to breathe - but which is also filled with challenges and unknowns and loud noises - none of which you have ever been very excited about.  I know you are being stretched, and while I sometimes wish I could make everything simple and easy for you, I know that this is good, too.  And I am working hard to be your peace and your home and your safe place in the midst of it all.

And tomorrow you start school!  My 5 year olds, going to pre-K and away from Mommy for the first time ever.   I know you will cry tomorrow.  I know I will, too - I will miss my faithful companions of the last 5 years.  But I also know that this is something else that will be so good for you.  That when we reach the end of this year and you are on the cusp of 6 I will once again be speechless as I consider the ways that you've grown.

Little Loves, I thank God for the gift of each of you in my life.  And now I'm going to go into your room to play some My Little Ponies with you.

Love, Mama

(The girls insisted I take this picture after they had lined up their new ponies.  Because we need to record the really important stuff, you know.)